John Singer Sargent The Breakfast Table

John Singer Sargent The Breakfast TableRembrandt Susanna and the EldersRembrandt Diana Bathing with the Stories of Actaeon and CallistoRembrandt Christ On The CrossRembrandt Christ Driving The Money Changers From The Temple
at knots.’
‘These were pretty good,’ said Victor.
‘I just remember the dream. There was this voice telling me that I must wake the ‑ the sleeping man?’
Victor thought of the armoured figure on the slab.
‘Did you get a good look at it?’ he said. ‘What was it like?’
‘I don’t know about tonight,’ said Ginger cautiously. ‘But in my dreams it’s always looked a bit like my Uncle Oswald.’
Victor thought distant, blurred voices. A few stones moved. A voice, a little closer now, trilled, ‘Hallo, little children. This way, little children.’
‘That’s Rock!’ said Ginger.
‘I’d know that voice anywhere,’ said Victor. ‘Hey! Rock! It’s me! Victor!’
There was a worried pause. Then Rock’s voice bellowed: ‘It’s my friend Victor!’
‘That mean we can’t eat him?’of a sword taller than he was. You couldn’t parry a slash from something like that, it’d cut through anything. Somehow it was hard to think of anything looking like an Oswald with a sword like that.‘Why’s he remind you of your Uncle Oswald?’ he said.‘Because my Uncle Oswald lay quite still like that. Mind you, I only ever saw him once. And that was at his funeral.’Victor opened his mouth ‑ and there were